


A Different Place

by Squeemish



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Fluff, Gen, Humor, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-13 22:04:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14121789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeemish/pseuds/Squeemish
Summary: “You’re beautiful.”It stopped him, hearing such words. How could it not, whispered in the dark with conviction and tenderness. Garak pushed aside the flutters, took Julian’s wrists and gently moved them from his face.“And you, my dear, are drunk,”





	A Different Place

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this tumblr prompt [by Whomerlockwood! ](https://whomerlockwood.tumblr.com/post/170276365812/garashir-fanfiction-prompt-again-sighs?is_related_post=1#notes)

**A Different Place**

 

There was an _ache._  In his head, around where the wire used to be, stabbing through his brain in quick flashes. It sliced and carved his brain into a hollow hall, where every clunk and rattle of the world multiplied in painful echoes. The door of his shop whirred shut. He hissed at it under his breath, then glared at the lights now over his head. Always too bright. Even at night.

 

Grinding his teeth, Garak trudged through the promenade, head pounding with every step. Imagined his bed. The warm, dim peace of his quarters. To his relief, the station tended to be quiet at this time of night. Thus sounds, few as they were, drew his attention. There was the usual susurrus of machinery, and the quiet beeps of the small cleaners that roamed the floors. No one living. Not until he was passing by Quark’s; the sound of voices made Garak stop, and observe the modest crowd of three emerging from the bar.

 

Jadzia Dax had her arm around Julian’s waist. Both of his had been thrown over her shoulders in an awkward embrace, face half-planted to her neck. The third party, Rom, scurried back inside after the duo managed a few clumsy steps forward. Garak narrowed his eyes. Succumbing to a diversion would further keep him from rest and warmth. Better for him to be on his way.

 

Hands behind his back, Garak sauntered over to the struggling pair. He greeted them with a smile and a small bow.

 

“Good evening, Lieutenant.” Jadzia swirled around, ponytail whipping through the air. Julian, unfortunately, wasn’t quite as fast. Long legs tripped over themselves, and threw both him and Dax out of balance. A whirl of limbs ensued as Jadzia tried to stand, while Julian clung to her neck and giggled, unhelpful. Quick to recover, Jadzia hauled Julian to his feet, blew a strand of hair off her forehead, and smiled as if nothing unordinary was afoot.

 

“Garak!” She sounded remarkably sober, if a bit hoarse. Laughter seemed the likeliest cause, her eyes still twinkling with it, enhanced by the dusky glow on her cheeks. Julian too looked flushed in his rumpled uniform, a sheen of sweat over his brow and upper lip. Most amusing was his hair, matted on one side and standing out on the other. He’d fallen asleep probably, hair left a mess after, though some curled over his forehead quite endearingly.

 

His observing was being observed. Garak caught Jadzia’s eyes, and nonchalantly fluttered his lashes. Surely he hadn’t stared _that_ long. With a knowing look, Jadzia glanced at Julian and back at Garak, quirking a brow.

 

“Want to take this one off my hands?”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“I wasn’t quite done playing tongo yet.” She leaned in with a lower voice, “Quark thinks he managed to cheat me and I need to set him straight on that”

“I see.” _Diversions._ One never ran out of lessons to learn. “For such a noble quest, I’ll gladly offer my assistance.”

 

Jadzia smirked and gave Julian a gentle shake.

 

“Hm?” Julian raised his head, and blearily blinked at Jadzia. She patted his back and smiled.

 

“Garak’s going to take you to your quarters.” Humming, Julian slumped back into her arms and sighed wistfully.

 

“Oh, I’d like that.”

 

“I’m sure.” She threw a sly wink at Garak, and gently began to peel Julian’s arms off of her shoulders. He didn’t resist, and dutifully aimed himself to be caught by Garak, on whom he landed mostly due to Garak’s own vigilance. The sudden weight only forced a soft grunt out of him, after which he pulled Julian securely against his side. Inwardly, Garak allowed himself a satisfied sigh. _Warm_.

 

“He’s mostly just sleepy I think.” Jadzia whispered fondly. She then gave Garak’s arm a grateful squeeze and grinned.

 

“Good night. And thank you!” She dashed off toward the bar, determined vengeance in her steps. Julian mumbled a farewell, and beamed at Garak through half-lidded eyes.

 

“Hello.” Garak sighed, and guided Julian’s arm over his shoulder.

 

“Quite the state you’ve managed to get yourself into, doctor.”

 

“Mmh.”

 

“Let us be on our way then.”

 

They managed about a metre, maybe two, until a repeat of the earlier tumble almost occurred when Julian simply stopped moving, his sudden dead weight nearly dragging Garak down as well. Garak hissed, startled, and pulled him back up. Julian snickered.

 

“Oops.”

 

“This would be a lot easier…” Garak huffed sharply, “if you used your legs.”

 

The suggestion was dismissed with another breathy snort.  

 

“Why are we walking?” Julian mumbled, face scrunched in distaste, and gestured upward with his hand. “Can’t we just… beam there.”

 

“I’m afraid not.”

 

“Bullshit.”

 

Enough of this foolery.

 

“Doctor, know that I do this for the sake of us both.” Swiftly, Garak hooked an arm under Julian’s knees, and hoisted him up into his arms. He expected resistance. Indignant screeching. A few kicks maybe, or another vulgarity. The very least a glare.

 

A squawk of pure delight rang loud and bright as Julian wrapped his arms around Garak’s neck. It mellowed to a pleased chuckle, after which he dozed off, head comfortably nestled under Garak’s chin. Garak stared at him, bewildered and charmed. An armful of Julian Bashir. A diversion indeed. A quick look around confirmed they were alone. Of course Odo could’ve been spending his night as a circuit board on a wall, but the constable was hardly indiscreet. After securing his cargo with a small jostle, Garak headed forward, and tried not to think about the arms resting on his bare shoulder ridges.

 

His steps were steady, carefully paced for Julian’s comfort as they made their way to the crew quarters. Julian’s head rocked a little, his hair lightly brushing against Garak’s neck. The sensation, and the herbal and faintly sweaty scent, lulled Garak into a warm, pleasant  haze. Pulses of cold sweat to break over his back. Inappropriate. Inappropriate, and wrong, to take enjoyment of this.

 

Though his muscles ached, the sight of Julian’s door felt unwelcome. Soon he’d be in his room. Alone.

 

“Doctor.” Garak said softly, and again, when no response came. “Julian. We’re here.”

 

Muttering, Julian reached out and punched a button on the door. It opened, and Julian wound his arm back around Garak, who was once again left a little stunned. He’d expected his journey to end at the door.

 

He carried Julian through, careful to not let his head or legs hit the door frame. Not bothering to call for the lights, he moved directly toward the bed and lowered Julian to sit on it, expecting him to let go and lie down. But Julian clung to his shoulders, lifting his head so they were face to face, and stared at Garak, silent. With a sigh, he moved his hands to cup Garak’s cheeks, a look of dazed wonder glazing his eyes.

 

“You’re beautiful.”

 

It stopped him, hearing such words. How could it not, whispered in the dark with conviction and tenderness. Garak pushed aside the flutters, took Julian’s wrists and gently moved them from his face.

 

“And you, my dear, are drunk,” Julian opened his mouth in shock and ripped his hands free to pointedly waggle a finger at Garak.

 

“I am _not--_.” He swayed, almost falling off the bed. Garak pushed him back and arched a brow. “Well. A little.”

 

“Indeed. Come now Doctor. Time for you to lie down.”

 

“Alright.”

 

Julian managed to strip down to his undershirt on his own, though only after Garak suggested he do so. He had not, however, warned Garak of the imminent and enthusiastic removal of clothing, leaving him to almost snap his neck turning away from the onslaught of bare skin and collarbone. He dared to look after hearing a soft whump. Sprawled on the bed face down, breathing deep and slow.

 

Technically his job was now completed. Yet Garak lingered, considering Julian’s sleeping form, on top of the covers. He tiptoed to the replicator. The blanket pattern they had was simple; a grey fleece like material. It would do.

 

Julian had rolled onto his side, and opened his eyes when Garak spread the blanket over him. He arranged it carefully, aware of Julian’s eyes on him, while trying very hard to not be.

 

“You’re _beautiful_.”

 

“I do believe we covered this topic already.” He’d hoped to sound exasperated, didn’t, and thanked the darkness around for hiding his flush. How much could be expected of him when faced with an attractive man’s flattery.

 

“It’s your eyes, I think,” Julian continued and reached out to trace the swirl of his left eyeridge, “They’re so… eyeful.”

 

Garak rolled his eyeful eyes, and tucked the wandering hand back under the blanket.

 

“I must commend your poetic capabilities, Doctor. Such astounding talent you’ve been hiding. Must be all that Shakespeare.”

 

“You see things. See me.” Julian whispered, serious.

 

“That is indeed how eyes work.”

 

“I don’t think it’s ever happened to me before.” With a yawn, Julian shut his eyes and curled under the blanket.

 

“Someone-- just looking at me and picking up all the pieces.” The words were slurred against the pillow, muffled by it somewhat. Garak leaned in closer, and watched as Julian’s brows furrowed in thought, the wrinkles there deeper than they ought to be on a man so young.

 

“People never see things the way I do. I try to explain, but--” Julian sighed, shoulders slumping with the force of it.

 

“Miles especially. He _really_ doesn’t like it when I explain.”

 

Garak frowned. Humans were easy to see as fragile. This one certainly, lean and birdlike as he was. All the more terrifying to witness the strength of his will, his compassion and kindness. Garak doubted Julian had understood the full impact of his actions, the escape his company had been, and continued to be. Never had he considered himself to be a similar comfort to Julian.

 

“We do share a wavelength, I believe.” He hesitated, then smiled. ”It is what makes our conversations so engaging.”

 

Julian hummed, in agreement perhaps, already well past half-asleep. Garak stood, about to turn toward the door, when Julian huffed out something unintelligible.

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

“That red suit, with the squiggly bits on the shoulders,” He said and demonstrated with a wiggle of his fingers, “I like it.”  There was more muttering, inaudible and garbled by a breathy snores.

 

Briefly he entertained the thought of sleeping on the sofa, to make sure Julian was alright. He dismissed it quickly. Mornings brought with them a different place. So he allowed himself a touch, the back of blanket covered shoulder, and left, heart and head lighter.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prompt for [Whomerlockwood's tumblr post! ](https://whomerlockwood.tumblr.com/post/170276365812/garashir-fanfiction-prompt-again-sighs?is_related_post=1#notes)
> 
> Space roombas keep DS9 nice and pristine. Sometimes Odo joins them.
> 
> As always, do tell if ya liked with kudos and/or comments!


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